Warning, violence. Had some free time, so I wrote this. However, continue to expect an update every 2~3 weeks depending on how busy I am.
"M-memory visualizer?" Will squeaked. "Like, look at your actual memories kind of stuff? I saw that in a game once!"
"I-is that even possible?" Gale stammered. She knew that scientists were coming up with amazing things all the time, but whoa.
"If it works… that's quite amazing," Lucia said, stunned by the notion of someone looking at another's memories.
Riven remained deathly silent.
Steven glided a hand over the machine, lifting some dust off the control panel. "It's still a prototype for the moment. We've been tuning it up, and we already ran some tests on it using some zigzagoons."
"They weren't hurt!" Birch added, noticing the nasty glares the trainers were giving them. "Just so you know… Erm, please continue, Steven."
Steven nodded. "It's true. No pokemon were hurt. Not all scientists are mad geniuses that experiment on innocent people and pokemon," he said, smiling reassuringly. "That's just a bad stereotype." A gentle laugh came from him. We're not Team Rocket.
"But did you actually see any memories?" Will asked, red eyes wide with fascination. "If you did, what did you see? When it was born, what they lived through? What?".
"Don't be so nosy, Will," Lucia reprimanded, elbowing him. "Forgive my brother, he just gets excited whenever he sees something that reminds him of a video game."
Steven waved a hand, signaling that it was fine. "We didn't actually see anything, per say."
"Then how do you know it works?" Gale asked, confused. "It's a visualizer right? So shouldn't it show you something?"
The professor and Steven looked at each other, and shrugged. "It's not like a projector, if that's what you mean, Ms. Gale. Due to the nature of the machine, and the problems that were raised from the discussion of its… ethicality- it was modified to be highly personal and vivid on a scale similar to that of reality."
"English please?" Will piped up. Scientists and their damn science speak. It was like a damn different language.
"It means that it's supposed to link two brains together, so that one sees the memories of the other. The problem is- well… How would you like it if someone projected your most intimate and terrifying memories to the whole world? Or in this case, room? Things you don't want to speak of, not at the times- or ever. Yet they're shown anyway?"
Lucia, Gale, and Will swallowed. Yes, that would be horrifying. What would someone feel? Humiliation? Pity? Pain? Everyone had things they didn't like talking about, and storing it in your brain was always an option if there weren't any psychics around. But now… it meant that secrets and troubled pasts weren't safe anymore, and that… was scary.
Steven gave them a comforting smile, once again, trying not to frighten the young trainers out. "Don't worry, we won't test it on any of you. To be frank, we're not sure how it would react with people. It's very possible the only thing someone might see is fragments of memory, probably the most intense and memorable ones at that. They may very likely be random and hold little to no significance. We hoped to go through lifetimes of memories if possible but- ah, nevermind. As long as it works, we'd be content. It's been in development since before my father named me CEO in his place. That… was some time ago," he explained, readjusting his tie again. Nervous habit.
"Oh," the three said simultaneously.
A sheet was tossed over the machine again, and Steven swept his hands against each other, ridding them of any dust. "By the way, I saw your battle," he mentioned, glancing at both Riven and Lucia. "Very impressive, for both of your pokemon, if I do say so myself. Lucia, your Sceptile is incredibly fast. I know they're naturally very deft pokemon but that was something else. Excellent job. You must be an accomplished trainer."
"Thanks!" Lucia beamed, feeling a little prideful at being complimented by the former champion. I got complimented by Steven!
"You too, Riven. Your Gallade has grown a lot since I last saw him as a Kirlia. That training in Forina helped significantly didn't it?"
Riven snapped his attention back to Steven, having been looking at the visualizer with a deeply pensive look. "Uh… yeah. Of course. Had him climb spires and run plenty of miles. He sparred with Aine nearly every day- and me occasionally. Getting punched by a fighting type hurts though. A lot. One punch gave me a nasty purple bruise- won't be doing that again."
"Training with your pokemon is a good idea for a trainer. But sparring with a fighting pokemon is a very demanding experience. Just ask Chuck over in Johto, he's always bruised and beaten after training sessions. But one punch? You're pretty fragile, Riven. Most fighters can take more than that. You do look a lot thinner than when I saw you last."
Well, obviously. A lengthy hospital visit tended to do that.
Gale and Will giggled, and an idea formed in Riven's mind as he saw the growing discomfort in Birch's face. Mismatching eyes narrowed."I distinctly remember smashing your face into a table, Steven. I can do that again, even if I did lose some mass."
Giggling stopped, replaced by gasps. Including Lucia, who looked like someone had slapped her with a hot iron.
H-he did that to the champion? WHAT?
The former champion was about to interject when Birch moved in, rapidly trying to salvage the situation before it deteriorated and Steven had anything worse happen to him. Like getting stabbed. "I guess that's enough of that then," he stepped in between, laughing nervously and gathering the kid; leading them away with his arms, a friendly grin plastered on his face. "All of you must be pretty hungry! It was quite a while since you last came by. We have some food upstairs if you'd like. Sweet bread and coffee. Come!"
Riven slipped out of Birch's grasp, staying behind. The professor looked back at Steven, making a face that asked, will you be okay- or do I have to come and check if you're dead?
Steven waved a hand, shooing him away, which –to Birch- meant he had just signed a contract that made him not liable for his death.
Well, if he does die, at least I'll know who did it, Birch mused momentarily, and left upstairs.
A long sigh escaped from the silvery-blue haired man. He reclined on a nearby glass pane, and waited until Riven reclined on it as well. He huffed, a bit tired from the strain the day had put on him. Gave Riven a sidelong glance, sharp and brief like the crack of a whip. "I saw what you did there. You shouldn't push your friends away like that."
"They're not my friends," the black-haired boy answered harshly.
"Don't lie to yourself, Riven," Steven said plainly. "You'd come here alone if they weren't. It isn't good to push people away, especially for a trainer. It's terrible for your health, even for an extreme introvert. Without friends… trainers change. And not for the better."
We don't need another Sinnoh. Not now. Not ever.
"It's not that I don't want them around. I can tolerate them. Friends just don't last too long around me," Riven said grimly, gaze steely and cold. "They just don't." And neither does anyone else.
Steven stared at him, somewhat trying to understand what he was trying to say. "Because of your-"
"No," Riven cut in. "Not because of the way I am." Fists clenched white. "They don't last because around me… things just happen. Go wrong. I come out alive- just barely- but they're not so… unfortunate."
"Unfortunate, how so?" Dying doesn't seem very lucky.
"Just because you're alive, doesn't mean you are," Riven muttered cryptically. Huffed and slumped further onto the glass. "I knew Birch would try to distract them, it's in his nature."
"Clever way of doing it, but still- you should learn to trust people more."
"I get enough of that from Gale."
"Sounds like she cares about you."
"Maybe as a puzzle box, one that she wants to crack. She's just someone that I hired to take me to Forina."
"Or maybe, you're too cynical to see that she has a genuine interest in you as a person? Forina is a long way from LaRousse." Why do you think she stayed?
Riven grimaced again, crossing his arms. "I don't get her." Shook his head. "But enough with my issues," he said, with an air of finality, and shot a heated glare at the man next to him.
Steven caught the look and promptly abandoned the subject. He tapped a finger against the coolness of the glass, deciding where to go from there. It felt like tip-toeing across a minefield barefoot. "I found the cave you talked about some time ago," he started, trying to dispel the encroaching awkwardness the two men found themselves in.
"And?" Riven rose straighter. "What did you find?"
"I found something I couldn't explain." Unbelievable, to be exact. He still didn't understand it, and that bugged him. "Your story doesn't sound as ludicrous anymore, is what I'm saying. I thought you were just lying about it but after what I found there… I'm not sure what to believe anymore. You told the truth."
"I do that quite a lot, actually," Riven replied dryly.
"Maybe you do," Steven chuckled, then went serious. "I talked to a colleague of mine. What we found there seemed to indicate a wormhole of sorts is what brought you- uh, here. So to speak."
Riven gave him a blank look.
How do I put this simply… "A portal." Riven mouthed a silent "oh". Steven nodded, continuing, "He believes that what brought you here was the result of something far larger. Essentially… you came here by complete accident, as a result of something most likely cataclysmic in nature."
"How quaint," Riven deadpanned. "But what made this 'wormhole'? It didn't just happen did it?"
"Ah, no. It's very possible that-" He laughed, half out of irony. "- it was a legendary pokemon, just like you said."
Riven threw his hands up, throwing around a few silent curses.
"Or three?"
The black-haired boy punted a metal bucket across the room, sending it veering off and through a glass container case.
"The pokemon in question being the creation trio?" Steven winced, wondering what else Riven wanted to break.
"That doesn't sound very good," Riven said. He cocked his head, confused. Then, he remembered the carving he saw in the ruins, recalling the figure in the middle, flanked by two others and a fourth in the corner. "So basically, gods? Now I know the universe is giving me the proverbial middle finger."
"Speculation but it's the closest thing to a reasonable explanation."
"Legendary pokemon and trying to give a logical explanation for their shit? What. Might as well try to freeze ice in hell. You'd have about the same rate of success."
"That's what I said. But I saw Groudon and Kyogre clash a few years ago, a drought and a downpour at the same time? Then Rayquaza coming down from the clouds and airlocking it away altogether? Now that- that was mindbreaking ," Steven retorted, rubbing his temples just trying to think about it again.
Riven nodded, calmly turned around, and drove his forehead into the glass panel behind them. It cracked a little. Steven moved him away from it, to a significantly less fragile surface he could smash his skull into, then gestured for him to continue. A nice, hard metallic one. In fact, he felt like doing it too.
After smashing his head into a metal wall enough that his head started to ring, Riven turned to Steven, slightly dazed. "But why?"
"That is the question, isn't it? Why?" Steven ran a hand through his hair, partly in frustration. "Such is the life of a scientist… Nothing but questions we don't have answers to. Fortunately, that just gives us a reason to find them, right?" He gave him a thin smile.
"Right," Riven agreed. He turned his attention to the visualizer, covered in a white sheet to prevent dust from accumulating. "Speaking of answers…"
Steven shook his head in vehement opposition, noting the look Riven was giving the machine. "No. No. We haven't tested it with people yet. It isn't safe. Are you-"
"You don't really want me to answer that, do you?" The trainer scoffed and gave him a sardonic smirk. "Safe. You're going to have to test it on someone some day, Steven. I'm going to volunteer, and you're coming with me. If we die, you can strangle me in the afterlife. I have a few pending appointments there, so you'll have to get in line first."
"You're… really serious about this, aren't you?"
"I want someone to believe me, Steven. I've had to lie continuously about where I'm from because it sounds so ridiculous to say- 'oh hey, I'm from the past! Please believe me' Even you called me crazy at first," Riven said pointedly. "Shit, I'd call me crazy if it didn't happen to me personally."
"That certainly is true," Steven admitted, a little guilty.
"With that-" Riven pointed, "-I can show you. You can't fake memories right? If you see, then you'll know it's real. Then we can start to figure out what happened. We both want answers, and with this, maybe we'll both get some."
Steven swallowed, feeling a nervous lump form in his throat. Oh, god, I'm not going to like this. He nodded reluctantly and turned to go get staff to help strap them in. A hand held onto his bicep, squeezing with pleading urgency, preventing him from leaving.
"I don't want them to know. It's for their own good," Riven whispered, and let go.
"I know. I respect your decision," Steven replied, hesitant. "I'll be back."
He returned, with Birch and several other white coats, beginning preparations to turn on the machine. Riven and Steven sat down in the chairs, getting prepped. Riven squirmed uncomfortably when the metal rings cuffed around his arms and legs, holding him down. The urge to run- break free- didn't let him relax. Then he felt a needle run into his arm, which added to further discomfort.
"Calm down," Steven assured, steady as steel.
"I hope you can say that when you see what I have," Riven mentioned, words once again frustratingly cryptic. "Then we'll see who calms who."
Birch nudged Steven, getting his attention. "Steven, are you sure you want to do this?" He asked. "The machine was designed to make it so that you're basically a viewer from another's perspective. You're going to see everything. Feel everything. And you won't be able to wake up until the sedatives have run their course. If his story is true… Steven, could you handle something like that?"
"I'm not really certain, but I'll have to try." He breathed, steadying his nerves. "I'm ready."
Birch turned to Riven. "Are you ready too?"
"Yes."
"Okay, apply the sedatives," Birch said, grimly serious. He flipped a switch on the machine, turning it on. "You'll be asleep in about thirty seconds. Riven, you might wake up a bit fuzzy. And Steven… I don't really know."
They both nodded, feeling the needles pump the sedatives into their bloodstreams.
"Three, two, one-"
Birch pushed a button and the world faded.
Blues, greens, and arrays of colors flashed through Steven's mind, taking him through a vortex of light, swirling and flashing and bursting with vibrancy. Most likely the connections of the brain; the nerves, synapses, the neurotransmitters…
Everything went dark for a brief moment.
Seconds later; smell, taste, touch, sound, and sight came to him. He sat in a decently sized room, with a hearth and walls made of stone. The air was warm- cozy to say the least. It looked as if he was reading a book. In it were symbols he'd never seen before, but somehow, he understood them. Small, pale hands ran glossed over the pages. He felt his eyes- no, not his eyes- sleepily dim for a moment.
This is- Riven's room? It works! It actually works! Steven thought, amazed. But where am I? His house? Hmmm, by the look of the hands, I'd say early childhood…
Confusion that wasn't his own poured into him, surprising and alien. What in the world? He sputtered, eyes that weren't his still glued to the pages. He wasn't confused, Riven was. A small, young Riven- disoriented and sleepy, reading what seemed to be some text. It was jarring though; to see, feel, and hear what another went through. He also couldn't move his eyes. Almost as if he was stuck in a first person movie.
The little boy stood up, pushing a door and walking through a large stone hallway, corridor perfectly visible, despite the pitch black darkness Steven knew had to be there. The young Riven stopped outside of a door, just a sliver open, orange light from a fire filtering into the dark hallway. He looked through the gap in the door, watching a man and woman sitting at a bed, talking.
What? Steven somehow knew who these people were. Riven's parents. But I shouldn't know this. I've never even met these people! The machine does more than let you feel everything, Birch.
"How did the offensive go?" The woman asked, concerned. She rubbed the man's shoulders, who looked tired and downcast.
"Successful, as usual. Annihilated them all again. Flanked and caught them on three fronts. We had archers positioned in the mountains to suppress and thin their ranks. Not too many dead this time, or any elite troops, thankfully. I cannot speak for Reklan Rose's troops, however, or the Liran mercenaries assisting them. Their electric attacks are too devastating," he replied, gripping the bridge of his nose. "We dealt with them first."
"That is good news! Why are you so grim then?"
He sighed deeply. "I am tired- tired of this war. It has gone on for far too long. Almost one thousand years too long. I know this, as do they." A jaw clenched, hard. "I called for unconditional surrender- on both sides. We have lost much because of this never-ending conflict. Cities, towns, our very livelihoods. All because of generations upon generations of fighting and dying. Many young men and women do not have a chance to grow old or have a family, or to be children. All for this pointless war."
He rubbed some exhaustion out of his face.
"Enough of the war. How is Riven doing with his lessons?" The man asked, curious.
"Gifted with a blade," she replied, "took to it naturally. He insists on carrying a knife everywhere he goes and practices with it needlessly."
"What about the more… scholarly ones? A Cerul must be trained in both."
"You know children and boys, if they are not swinging around sharp metal or chasing something, they think it dreadful. Riven has complained about the writing lessons almost incessantly, although he has started to come to me far less as of late... But he practically dashes to go to his swordplay and archery lessons. Geollen says that he has a fighter's blood in him."
"That is what I fear," Riven's father lamented. "I do not want him to grow up in a world at war. It is… tiresome. I want him to be a boy, like he should be, until he is ready to become a man. Then meet a beautiful girl and have a family."
"I know, I know. But first, this war must end. What is your next move, oh so aptly named, the hand of the devil?" She teased gently.
He snorted."Interesting name they gave me. Still manages to make me laugh." Silence. "Tomorrow, I will head out with part of the army to Vanklei in the Raksa lands, to discuss terms."
"The ice people? Ah, neutral territory. Yes… Who will attend?"
"The Curians and the Roses. With luck, it will not degenerate into violence. But those hot-headed Roses are unpredictable, and erupt at the drop of a wood chip. Who knows what the Curians are plotting."
"Ugh, Curians. Those psychic bastards?" His mother said disdainfully. "Those manipulative, conniving wretches. They have done nothing but slander us and our people. I would not miss them if they were all wiped off the face of this earth." She held up a finger. "And soon!"
"I find myself feeling the same thing some days. Such hate is not healthy for you or any of our kind. I know what is, however." He grinned devilishly. "I will not see you for some weeks, can you give me a proper send off?"
"Get undressed and your request might be considered."
They both kissed and Steven felt childish disgust pour in. "Blegh!" a young boy's voice rang. "Gross!" Hands rubbed at his sides, trying to rid himself of the nasty. Scurrying back to his room, Riven ducked under the covers, trying to achieve sleep.
Steven chuckled, it was refreshing to see that Riven wasn't always… like Riven.
The world went black again, shifting to another fragment. He had awoken to find himself walking through a forest, playing with the plants and a fallen silcoon, bugging it until it shot string at him. The forest appeared to be similar to the one near Littleroot, with its gentle breeze and abundance of pokemon among the ferns and the trees. But there were no trainer routes or signs. The forest was untouched.
But it seemed Riven knew his way perfectly fine, coming to a network of caves. Disappearing into one, he navigated the tunnels inside without so much as a single light, in complete darkness, trailing a tiny finger along the wall, humming a tune.
He can see this well in the dark… Why is that?
After hours of exploring, finding childish importance in trivial things, like shinier than normal rocks, and even a collection of stalagmites, he exited the cave, giddy. Unsheathing his favorite knife, he twirled it around in his fingers, eager to return for his sword lessons again. That is until he looked up.
Orange fire and pitch-black smoke crawled hundreds of feet into the air, the smell of burning wood and stone making the air thick and heavy. It was coming from the city, from home.
Steven recoiled mentally, feeling dread and worry crash into him. He could feel Riven's heart rate increase, pounding into his chest like a hammer; trying desperately to get out, fearing the worst. Picking up the little bag Riven had taken with him, little fingers gripped the handle of the knife like a pole in a storm.
He ran. He found himself feeling as if he had just ran himself, despite it being Riven's memory, not his. When Riven's legs finally stopped at the outskirts of the city, Steven could only witness as he stared through the watery eyes of a child whose entire home had just been razed to the ground in flames.
Steven heard a voice in his head whisper, Mother… Father… home.
A knife dropped to the ground, point first, as hot tears crept silently down his cheek.
Small hands picked up the knife a minute later, holding it weakly. Walking amongst the ashes, Riven stopped in front of where his home had stood, now a charred heap of burned wood and stone. He moved throughout the town, taking in the destruction. A once great city, now reduced to rubble and charred ruins. Blackened corpses lay in the ground, disfigured. Then he heard voices.
"Search for any survivors!"
Sliding into cover around the remnants of a burned house, he saw red armor atop Arcanine. Rose soldiers. He recognized the crest of one of the men on top of the Arcanines, elite pyrolancers, capable of unleashing devastating blast burns that incinerated towns and entire forests. They were the top of the top, and were not to be taken lightly.
Riven looked down at his knife, and knew he was powerless.
Misery and a newfound sense of hatred swept through his being, like a wave in a surf. Then grim realization, followed by determination. Riven took his knife, and cut himself under his right eye, running the razor-edged blade down his cheek, the Altean vow for vengeance he'd read in a book once. Steven felt the fiery sensation of a blade cutting through skin. It felt real. Too real.
Blood trickled down onto the blackened ground.
Kurenth...
Again, he awoke from darkness, still rattled by what he had just seen. He couldn't feel it, but he knew his body was shaking. It had to be.
As the world came to, a hand struck his face, a sharp sting like a Beedrill's bringing him out of his thoughts.
Blood seeped out of Riven's mouth, with the singing pain of cut gums caused by teeth and a forceful strike.
Anger. Frustration.
A rough voice came from across from him, taunting but instructive at the same time.
Fiyur. An asshole, memory told Steven. The association Riven gave the man's face made Steven snort.
"You are angry! Stop!" Riven lunged, and his punch was blocked. Tripped, then had his face shoved into mud. "Cut emotion. Emotion makes you feel when you must act on instinct and training. Anger is what pushes you into making mistakes. And if you make a mistake, a Rose soldier will drive a sword through your chest. Do you understand, Cerul? And to get revenge, you need to be alive! Hands up!"
Combat training? He shouldn't be older than a teenager judging by the hands…
Pain came back once again, as he blocked several punches from the instructor, then spun and tried to land a kick, only for his leg to be grabbed and thrown like a ragdoll into the mud a few feet away.
"See? You did much better that time! Again!"
He was an explosive young boy, Steven observed as the rush of angry, hot-blooded feelings enveloped his mind.
"Do not feel…" the mud-stained boy recited. "No feeling…" Riven rose once again, taking a steadying breath, causing the anger to wane. Falling into a stance, he took another breath, and rushed forward.
Then he was punched in the gut and landed face down in the mud again. Steven could taste the soggy earth, as Riven nearly wretched, but held it in; panting like a magikarp out of water.
"Try harder!" The instructor demanded, lifting his arms to signal him to get up.
The scenery shifted again, jarring Steven's mind and perception. The transitions were getting smoother but they were still pretty rough for the most part. This time, he saw Riven walk through a tent flap into the night air, where three armored men were huddled around a fire.
Kasaic, Delgen, and Reath. Friends, the memory registered in Steven's head. So he was a soldier. And these were his friends? What?
"Awake at last!" Reath proclaimed, going over to wrap Riven in a tight man-hug. "We thought we would never see you again. You deserved that rest. Was the wild kind to you?"
"Well, the survival lessons helped. Made my own bow and arrows to hunt with. An onyx nearly killed me with a rockslide though. And then I ran into some Ariados."
Kasaic and Delgen winced.
Reath clapped a hand on his back. Steven felt it hurt, but Riven said nothing. "Ha-ha! Something other than fighting stuck! That is a miracle in itself. But what about your skills? Did they rust? Oh royal Cerul, son of the late hand of the devil and heir to the position of Altea's warlord? Not that there is any Altea left but… still." He picked up two wooden swords, tossing one to Riven.
He caught it, giving it a flashy twirl and a thin smirk.
"Show-off," Reath said dryly, and lunged.
Steven was surprised when Riven easily knocked the bigger man flat onto his ass in less than a minute.
"Like Fiyur loves to say, try harder next time," the younger boy quipped, picking up Reath with his right hand. "Next?"
Kasaic lifted up from a nearby stump. "I got this cocky little shit, just you wait," he said confidently. "Going to show you, royal boy."
"Come on then, show me how the commoners dance," Riven taunted, tapping his palm with the wooden sword. Kasaic came at him with a diagonal chop. He blocked the other soldier's strike, following through with a painful strike to the shin, then a vicious handle smash to the face, twisting his opponent's helmet sideways. A gentle kick sent him to the ground. "So overzealous too."
"All right, perhaps I lied," Kasaic said, voice muffled by the helmet. He picked himself up, taking it off while bumbling about, and wiped the sweat off his brow with his gloves.
Riven gestured him for a round two, grinning smugly.
He was happy, Steven noted. The warmth of comfort and camaraderie. They were friends. Actual friends. No maybes about it. There was no hint of that silent, cold detachment he saw from the Riven he knew in the present day. There was life.
"No more. That was it for my bravery tonight. I would like to avoid any more bruises for the most part. But that leg strike was dirty."
"We do what we have to, right?"
"Argh, you mismatched eye son of a bitch."
Riven laughed.
"Careful Kasaic, you might feed his ego," Delgen teased, "but we all know Yanine kicks his ass in hand-to-hand anyday. Yanineeeee," he sang. "You got a challenger. Your favorite kid!"
The young soldier paled, wishing he could hide in a hole and fade away from existence.
A woman with charcoal black hair came out of a tent, tying it up in a bun. "Was that a challenge, Cerul boy? Want to get slammed back down to the ground again? You are only a boy, but do not make the mistake of thinking I will go easy on you. Or not help myself to some… things," she said, looking him up and down. "Or do I have to choke you with these?" She said, gesturing downwards, to her… assets. "You might like it. Given your father- you are filling out quite nicely. Fiyur has been training you well and oh, it shows. When I saw you in a stream before you disappeared, I got a little excited. You still want to challenge me?"
Riven's face reddened, a wave of hot embarrassment in his cheeks. "Uh… n-no. You are the best Yanine, forgive me for my arrogance."
"Forgetting something?"
"Ma'am."
"Good boy."
His commanding officer huh? A woman? That's rare. I guess they don't discriminate.
"Yanine," Delgen started.
"What?"
"You know flirting with part of your unit is terrible for cohesion, right? I mean just look at the poor boy, you have him tamed like a poochyena on a leash."
"I know the rules of command, Delgen. That is the sole reason why he has remained untouched." She shot an authoritative gaze at him. He backed down, arms raised. Yanine turned back to the rest of them, tone changing from flirtatious to commanding within an instant."Now start sharpening swords, the lot of you. Lazy sods." She went over to a pile of swords, picked one up, and began sharpening it. "Cerul, that sly bastard Nemos still not back yet?"
"No. Still out scouting with a few others. Taig, Ulok, and Fen," Riven replied, taking his place on the ground near Kasaic and Delgen.
"Ah. Say, Cerul- you are a fairly skilled climber, right? You were gone for two months, lost in the wild, and somehow miraculously came back with a plethora of useful enemy encampment information. Why not ask the general to get placed in scouting duty, with Nemos? He is your friend."
"Well, yes but… then I would not be at your side," Riven twitched, compliment less than complimentary. Then he coughed.
Steven snickered mentally again. He wants to be snarky. He's dying to be snarky.
Yanine smirked, taking out a longer, curved knife.
"Bootlicker!" Delgen and Kasaic teased, running their blades on a whetstone. Reath grinned from ear to ear.
Hazel eyes narrowed, and Yanine raised a brow. Keep it up and get guard duty for a week. They quickly piped down. She couldn't threaten them like she did Riven, they would probably enjoy it if she did. And she liked younger boys, they were more youthful, obviously. They had stronger… thrusts. And sword-arms. Made good soldiers. Eager to fight. Not that they had been getting any new recruits anyway. Riven, Nemos and a few others had been their latest, and that was four years ago.
They stayed quiet for a while, the metallic sound of metal swiping across stone filling the air, followed by the crackling of a fire. "Did the injured make it?" Delgen asked somberly, with slight hesitation and pain for his comrades. "That skirmish yesterday…"
"No," Yanine replied bluntly, staring at her hands. "I tried my best, but they lost too much blood. I am no nurse. We ran out of those a while ago. Those fucking Roses, they may be despicable, treaty breaking scum, but hell if they have not picked up some ruthlessness."
"Yanine," Riven started. "Person to person, can I ask you a question? Seriously?"
"Go ahead, kid."
"Why did they do it? Why kill us? War was over. My father wanted peace, but it failed. And now the war is back. What was the point? There is nothing to gain anymore. All they do is destroy forests, poison lakes, decimate grasslands, just to hunt us down. Why?"
She smiled, a bit wry. "I think I would hunt down anyone that was killing my soldiers and harassing my supply lines too. Right?" All of the men thought about it, then more or less shrugged in agreement.
Her smile fell, no longer wry, but bitter. "As for the war... it started too long ago for us to know for sure. Why anyone hates us now is purely because of what we are. Or maybe that is how it has always been? But who are we pretending to be, philosophers? We are just soldiers, fighting a hopeless battle because we have nowhere else to go. The better question is what to look forward to if the war ever ends again, and we survive. All I know is, I am not going to let human refuse like that take over the earth while I still live."
The men raised their swords.
Reath grimaced, throwing a stick into the fire. "I love fire. It gives warmth. Cooks our food. Gives us light. Well, we can see perfectly fine in the dark, but it still gets cold. I love fire. And yet I hate it. So confusing."
The others nodded, faces grim. Steven knew it too. Through Riven, he knew they would never have a home again. And it hurt, as if a knife had been driven into his chest, then twisted and left to fester. Something began to crawl into Steven's mind, but he held it back. It gave him an uneasy feeling, like staring out into a pitch-black void. A frightening darkness.
The dark forest of night shifted to a bright blue sky, filled with white fluffy clouds and a sweet, gentle wind, ruffling the green hills of grass. The sun bore down on him, its rays hot against his skin. Sweat poured down his face, hair damp.
Argh- I feel damp in places… I shouldn't be damp in, Steven thought, disgusted.
Why is it so blasted hot? Riven's own thought cut in.
The sun is out, Steven retorted, but heard no answer. Oh, right.
Riven walked forward, ducking under the shade of a tent, next to Kasaic. "Beautiful day, no?" The other man stated, looking up at the clouds. "But we all know what happens on beautiful days."
"Who will die today?" Riven muttered. Both of them nodded. "Army is getting smaller. We lost about thirty the other day, passing through the mountains. Uren got crushed by a boulder, right next to me. Got a blood shower. He was a good fighter… shame he went off like that. The rest got caught in an ambush on the west side."
"Dwell on it too much, and the hate will start to eat at you. At least one of ours is worth six of theirs. They know they are unable to take us head on, but they have more numbers. While ours just dwindle. There were nearly two thousand when we started. Down to about eleven-hundred strong now."
Riven huffed, uprooting some grass with a scrape of his boot. "Why do they tell us not to hate them? Every time I see one of our dead, I feel like I should hate them even more. Is that not the point of all this? To see them lay in a pool of their own blood, throats slashed open, choking to death?"
"Maybe it is. Maybe not. Who knows anymore? Just dead men walking at this point. We just have a slight problem with accepting it." Kasaic fiddled with a knife, carving a figurine of a poochyena. He had grown close to one; it evolved some time ago, but died recently. Named it Spiel. Shot with over eleven arrows, but refused to go down, biting into a soldier's neck before finally stopping.
"Loyal beast. Saved your life several times, right?" Riven said apologetically, watching the man carve the wooden figurine.
"Yes. He was very loyal. I loved that dog. He was the closest thing to family."
Riven raised a brow. "What about us?"
"Oh, you? You are even lower than a dog. Just a pup that sank its teeth into a neck and enjoyed the taste," Kasaic jested, shoving the boy playfully. "I am joking. You are a fine soldier, Cerul. I remember when you came to us; small, mostly innocent, and as grimy as a rat."
"Am I really hearing this from you? I can knock you on your ass easily. Even if you do have years over me."
"Bah, you are younger than me." Kasaic let out a long laugh, humor sweeping away some of the pain. "Either way, we are both stuck in this shitty world just the same."
Riven shook his head and laughed alongside him. His laugh died abruptly as he saw a very sweaty Yanine approaching them, donning her usual perverted smirk, fanning herself casually.
"Say, Cerul. Why have you not taken Yanine up on her offer? Some of us would kill to do those kinds of things with her. It is horrible for discipline- your father would disapprove- but the general would not possibly know if you two disappeared into the bushes for an hour. We are in the plains but the point still stands. I wonder if our commanding officer is a screamer…"
"Why are we talking about this? And I am a soldier not a plaything-" He gulped, and gave a strained smile. "Hello, Yanine!" he welcomed through grit teeth.
"Cut the tauros shit, what are you both doing?" She put her hands on her hips, looking sweaty and attractive, sweat glistening on her-
Riven slapped Kasaic.
"Taking our break, away from the sun?" he squeaked. Riven squeaked. Steven couldn't help but erupt in a mental giggle fit.
"Oh, well then- both of you move, clear some space for me." She sat down next to Riven, her uniform open enough for him to see down her shirt. They were shiny with sweat. He reddened again. Noticing, she opened it up a little more, inching closer to Riven, who kept inching back. Her lips stopped at his ear, whispering very obnoxious things Steven had the displeasure of hearing.
The one bad thing about being linked and feeling everything? Steven had just witnessed a younger Riven go through training lessons, recalling getting the snot beat out of him during training, and the importance of maintaining a blade just to fight arousal. To say it was awkward and uncomfortable was a massive understatement. Thinking about it grossed him out, and would probably need some brain bleach after this was over.
Kasaic roared in laughter. "Stop teasing the poor boy so much, Yanine! The urges never got started with him anyway! Became a soldier too early. What were you, eleven?"
"That is when they picked me off the street at Kurenth. Just ask Kiyur. Beat the absolute shit out of me nearly everyday. Still does sometimes, but I can keep up now."
"Nemos got picked up at Kurenth too, right? Damn unfortunate they razed to the ground after we passed through there last year."
"Yes… Nemos got caught stealing in the market. It was either shipped off to the army, or get your hand cut off. He chose the army. I went and signed up a little later."
"Good choice. Either way, there is a high chance you will die. One is just faster. Sword through the chest or infection," he said lazily, holding up two hands. Most people chose the hand. Those people usually died.
"Rivvvennnn," Yanine called seductively, getting closer. She held his chin, gray staring into terrified blue and brown."Oh when you become of age I will make you mine I swear it. You are going to give me what I have been missing all these years. Are we could head into the tent and you can give it to me right n-"
She cut herself off, watching as a runner came up to them, panting from a full on sprint from the main camp. "Yanine, get your men… and get up…. to base camp!"
"What? Why?" She questioned, alarmed.
"Rose troops… surrounded," he gasped, holding his side.
"Catch your breath, breathe- damn it! What else they got?"
"Arcanines and those… bloody fire horses too!"
"No escape. Fuck! Everyone, go gather the others! Cerul. Kasaic. Get Reath and the others. Armor up and fall in. Get moving!" Yanine and the other scrambled, donning armor and weapons, going through their encampment.
Riven tossed on armor while he ran, its weight feeling strange to Steven, who was used to smooth formal wear, not the heavy and hard feeling of metal plate. He was armored up like a walking juggernaut.
Arriving at the main camp, the general was already barking orders. "Get ready, battle positions! They have archers and Arcanines! Get yourselves fire proof shields and spears! Hold the line, stay in formation, and cover your partners! Beware of volleys and fuck- when those fire dogs come, do not let them break the line! Archers will stay behind and cover you!"
Riven slammed into position, flame-proof shield in one hand, and a spear in the other. Two blades rested on his hips, with a knife stored in his pants just in case. He huddled next to Yanine and Reath, with Kasaic further to the right, nervous. His fingers tapped the spear, swallowing hard to keep his head. Counting. Waiting.
Yanine headbutted him with her helmet. "Hey, Cerul."
"Yes, ma'am?
"Stay alive, you hear me? No, promise me that. Because when you become of age, you and I are having babies. And there will be no buts about that."
Reath rolled his eyes, wincing as the first flaming arrow whistled through the air and bounced uselessly off a shield.
Riven nodded very reluctantly, and gripped the spear, hearing the whistles of arrows rain down from the sky. He raised his shield with the others, blocking every arrow that came near them, a twang of metal resounding for every would-be hit. The arrow storm slowed, and the Remnant army resumed their battle stance, eager to meet the charging Rose troops.
A battlecry thundered across from the plains, red armor shining in the afternoon sun.
Closer.
And closer.
And closer until they were just about-
"Get ready!" Yanine shouted at the top of her lungs, "spears down, shields up! Send them to hell!"
Armor and steel clashed.
Riven's body jolted back with the impact of the charge, heels digging into the earth to prevent from getting pushed back. Catching sight of his enemy, he thrust his right arm forward, sending a spear through a red-armored soldier's neck, then pulled it back out before shoving it into another man's chest. Blood spurted out onto the green grass, staining it the very color of the stylistic Rosan armor.
Steven wanted to puke, but knew he wasn't in conscious control of his body. Riven had- no, he had killed a person! It was as if he was the one that had killed, not Riven. The force of the thrust, and the thoughts that came with them. Kill them, don't let them live. He could only watch in horror as Riven used the spear over and over, felling man after man, lining up corpses at his feet.
The worst part was the sick, twisted satisfaction he got from doing it. The sensation that could best be described as quenching, fullfilling. Riven reveled in killing them, feeling no guilt or sorrow for what he had done, ending a life like it was nothing. It may have been the soldier's training, but Steven was no soldier. He had never killed anyone in his life, and yet here he was seeing himself murder another, even if it was Riven and not him personally. It didn't make it any less real.
The young soldier impaled another soldier through the chest, kicking him down to pull the spear back out. A wall of dead Rosan troops lay in front of the line. Blood trickled from spears. They held their position. One man tried to retreat. Yanine threw her spear at him.
He fell onto the floor, gasping for air, lung punctured by the metallic tip. She walked up to him, and smirked, looking into fearful red eyes. Glanced up, knowing the next wave of troops were watching."Can you breathe?" she asked the choking soldier gently, caressing his hair.
He spat out blood.
"No response? Oh, well." She put a foot on his back, took out the spear, and impaled it into his spine, ending his life instantly. Taking out her sword, she pointed it straight at the Rosan commander, who sat atop an armored Arcanine, grimacing in disgust. She came back to the formation, settling into place.
"You know all that did was anger them further, right?" Kasaic said.
"That was the point," she said. "Rule one of training. Get angry and you make mistakes. And when you make mistakes, you die."
Yanine was right. The Rosan soldiers charged in a disorganized fashion, falling quickly against the more orderly formation of the Remnants. Growing tired of the casualties, the Rosan commander ordered the Arcanine riders to charge forward and break the line.
That's when everything became hell.
The large firebreathing hounds released intense blasts of fire into the huddled mass of shields, red-hot flames increasing the heat of their shields. Metal glowed white, until some of the soldiers dropped them from getting too hot. That's when some of them were incinerated on the spot, left to smolder on the ground, spreading the smell of burnt flesh and leather in the afternoon heat.
Riven looked for a split second at the aftermath of one of the unfortunate ones and held back bile. Steven wished he could hurl. The man's skin had peeled off like wax on a candle, and the smell that came with it made his stomach churn. But Riven held fast.
Formation broken, the Remnants reformed themselves into groups of four, taking on the Arcanines. They would be safe from arrows for now, they Rosan troops wouldn't dare fire on their own, especially Arcanines.
"Cerul, Reath, Kasaic!" Yanine shouted, parrying a soldier's sword with her spear and bashing him in the throat with her shield. "With me!"
The three men huddled around Yanine, covering each other as they battled any brave soldiers that tried to attack them.
Burying her spear into another man, Yanine whipped her head back-
"Cerul! Behind you!"
Riven turned around, instinctively raising his shield before a burst of explosive flame knocked him off his feet and onto the ground, leaving him shieldless. He opened his eyes to see the Arcanine's rider about to bring down an axe on him. He raised his spear with both hands in an attempt to soften the blow. The blade of the weapon made contact with the Riven's own, snapping the shaft in two and continuing through. However, the axe bounced off his armor, having lost most of its force in breaking the spear shaft.
But it wasn't done yet.
The rider's Arcanine reared its head, sharp teeth bared as fire flared up from its insides about to release-
A spear was thrown into its leg, then its chest, and into its mouth. The giant dog fell to the floor, knocking its rider off of it. Reath shoved a sword in his heart before he could draw his own weapon.
Riven stood up, collecting his shield and drawing one of his swords. He pointed east, behind Kasaic. "Another one!"
Kasaic and Reath drew their swords, while Yanine reached for a bow. The three men approached it from three different sides, crouching behind their shields when the Arcanine used a flamethrower to try and hit them all. The Rose perched on top was about to bring down his own axe on Kasaic when an arrow flew through the air and lodged itself between his eyes.
"Nice shot," Kasaic thanked, slashing one of the pokemon's feet with his blade. It wasn't happy with this, releasing another stream of fire at him and pouncing. Riven rushed forward, all too aware that being pinned by an Arcanine meant certain death. He held his blade up, face high, and thrust forward, sending cold steel into the dog's ribs, causing it to release a howl of pain.
It whipped around, gathering blue fire in its mouth.
Overheat! Riven realized. Not even his shield could stop that. It would heat up impossibly fast and he'd end up like the ones who died at the start of the assault. The soldier rolled out of the way, feeling the scorching blast of superheated fire through his armor, his eyes catching the blackened trail of destruction it'd left in its wake. The attack had gone awry, and took some of theirs with it.
Reath jumped, landing a deep gash along its mouth. He was tossed aside by the creature's tackle, armor softening the blow, but not quite. Kasaic also closed in, slashing along its side with his blade, opening deep, gaping wounds near its hind legs. Yanine shot four arrows into the fire dog's face and neck; it was rapidly losing blood, slowing down considerably from the injuries.
However, the Arcanine managed to bite onto Reath's sword with its teeth, flinging it out of his hands, leaving him defenseless. In one swift motion, the dog spat flame, heating up its teeth, and bit down on his torso, piercing the softer parts of the metal armor and reaching flesh. Reath yelled in pain. He looked at Riven, holding out his hand while the Arcanine gnashed its jaws around, ripping into him further.
Catching the blade Riven had tossed him, he drove it into the beast's neck and across-
The Arcanine finally fell, blood pouring out of its neck. Jaws relaxed, letting Reath go, bleeding profusely from puncture wounds in several different places the teeth had pierced through. The flesh between his neck and shoulder had been mangled and his dark grey armor was stained crimson. He tried to stand but stumbled.
"Someone, take him back to camp!" Yanine called out, stabbing a soldier in the back of the neck with a knife. She called to one of their own nearby, roaring at him to take Reath to camp. The soldier nodded, helping Reath up. He left a trail of blood behind him.
"The rest of you, get ready, there are more," Yanine bit out icily. "Come and die, murderers."
An even larger wave of soldiers rushed forth, taking advantage of the fact that the Arcanines had wreaked their havoc on the Remnant Army's formation. Some fell to arrows but there weren't enough idle archers on their side to stop them all. Riven steadied himself, removing the heavier part of his armor.
What came next was a frenzy of blood, steel, and death.
Blades slashed through flesh and bone, arrows pierced organs, warhammers shattered bone. The Rose army had many soldiers, but they were far from experienced. The Remnants tore through them, being better fighters, trained for years. Riven was caught in a craze, hair soaked with a mixture of blood and sweat as his swords severed limbs, slit throats, and ran soldiers through. He took hits as well, but the adrenaline in his system diminished the pain.
They may have been superior in ability, but the Roses were far too many. As fatigue started to set in, fresh Rosan troops poured in, eventually overpowering many of the frontline fighters, who were tired and littered with lacerations and other injuries.
Riven fought with five men, felling them one by one, until he stabbed his blade into the last, catching a glimpse of a struggling Kasaic, on his knees. Four men surrounded him, aiming their blades in his direction.
The soldier ran forward, desperately trying to reach him in time. He was only a few feet away, but it was if it took eternities to reach him.
He was too late.
The Rosan soldiers' blades thrust forward, piercing through Kasaic's body in four different places. A gush of blood came out of his mouth, and he smiled. Taking his own sword, Kasaic drove it into the soldier in front of him, bringing him down as he fell, still smiling.
"Fucking Rose…"Riven heard as he leapt, quickly cutting the other three down, before kneeling beside Kasaic. A hand pulled him back, Yanine.
"He is gone, Cerul," she said, pulling him to his feet. "He died content. Now focus on the fight." Knocking an arrow, she let it fly, burying it into a man's skull some distance away.
They continued to fight among explosions of fire, and the embrace of death, until the booming crack of electricity was heard.
"Lirans…" Yanine realized, eyes wide. "Why are they here?"
A yellow light flashed in the distance.
"Get down!"
Yanine tackled Riven to the floor, thunder trailing overhead like a bolt of beautiful death, spreading the nauseating odor of ozone. It smashed into the grass, kicking up a shower of dirt and spilled blood. The two shot to their feet, readying their blades. Dodging more bolts of electricity as the Lirans descended upon them, Riven and Yanine met them, blood-stained gray meeting gilded yellow and white.
They were much better fighters than the Rose troops, but still not good enough. Fighting them, along with some of the other surviving frontline soldiers, Riven and the others slowly began thinning their ranks. Glancing around, the young soldier could see some of his comrades fall to electrocution, others by blade.
Finishing one of the mercenaries, Riven cried in pain as a golden tipped arrow shot into his leg. Then another into his shoulder. Then another. And another. He fought the urge to pass out. On his knees, he flung a knife at the Liran archer, right into his eyes. A fist collided with his back, sending a wave of excruciating electricity through his body. Ducking under another thunderpunch from his attacker, an electabuzz, Riven sank his sword into its skull. He fell to the ground, hardly able to move.
Vision blurring, he weakly turned his attention to Yanine, whose moves had grown sluggish, still moving with that heavy armor. Unable to effectively block an incoming attack, the Liran she was fighting broke through her guard.
Then he stabbed her in the stomach with his sword.
"Yanine!" Riven desperately called out. Under partial paralysis and the pain of having four arrows in his body, the injured soldier crawled towards her, fighting the urge to pass out.
The mercenary tried to pull out his sword, but Yanine held on tightly, momentarily numb. Then, pulling a hidden knife out of her armor, she flipped the knife in reverse, stabbed it into the blonde mercenary's neck, and tore through it, pulling it out as his body fell lifelessly to the floor.
She collapsed, breathing faintly.
Riven crawled to her, holding her hand. She felt cold, and he put two fingers on her neck; her pulse was weak, too weak.
"Hey, Cerul…" she whispered, crimson trickling out of her mouth and down her face.
"Yes, Yanine?"
"Looks like I am the one who is going to break her promise," she laughed. "How embarrassing. What good is a woman without her word?"
"No. No. You are going to survive," he said, holding onto her hand tightly. He could hear the enemy commander order another charge. He mentally cursed.
"Stop kidding yourself Cerul, I have a sword in my stomach. Not even a healer could save me. My time here is done. I do not have much time left. Neither do you, it would seem." She reached up and kissed him in the forehead, smiling. "But I know you will definitely make it through. You always do, you stubborn fuck. At least make me one promise..."
"What?" He said, quavering.
"Live for me. For Reath, For Kasaic. For everyone we lost," she said regretfully, handing him her knife. "But please do not cry. Anything but that, Riven. If you do, i will return from the dead and kick your ass. Live." She smiled sadly, closing her eyes, letting out one final breath. Gone.
Riven slammed a hand on the floor, hatred filling his entire being. I will murder you all, repeated in his mind. Over and over. An intoxicating, overwhelming bloodthirst. Steven had to fight tooth and nail to prevent it from sweeping him up as well. Shadows seemed to dance around him.
What was that?
The injured soldier shakily got his feet, picking up Yanine's bow. Staring at the commander with murderous eyes as he rode down the hills with the other troops, Riven grabbed the arrow lodged in his shoulder and pulled. He let out a blood curling scream, filled with pain, both physical and emotional.
Half-dead and barely on his feet, he nocked it, aimed and let loose- projectile shooting through the air like a golden bullet, a black trail of shadows leading right behind it.
The commander hit the ground at the same time Riven did.
The last thing he saw before his vision went black was the whistling of arrows and the stomping of hooves.
Then the next memory blurred together. Eyes opened to a concerned face, Delgen.
"Riven! Riven! My god, you tough fucking bastard. Four arrows, partial electrocution, and even that failed to stop you."
Throat dry and wrapped in bandages, Riven painfully sat up. Delgen gave him a cup of water, which the young soldier immediately lapped up.
"I am… not dead?" He asked blankly.
"No. No!" Delgen repeated, pulling the boy into a hug.
"Did we drive them back?"
"Yes. The archers did. Once you killed the commander- I still have no idea how you had the strength left to do that- their formation fell apart. Reinforcements came and we made them retreat. The mightyena and our archers killed off some stragglers. But we did capture some of them." He shook Riven, who had a far-off look in his face.
Steven felt nothing, absolutely nothing. The boy had hollowed, mind and feeling. Oh no.
"Reath. Kasaic. Yanine…" Riven whispered, staring at the floor.
"I am sorry. I miss them too. Reath bled out some time after the battle was over. We were able to recover Kasaic and Yanine's bodies intact. They have not been defiled."
Riven stood up, face gravely serious, and walked out of the tent.
Delgen followed him, concerned by the radical shift in the normally nonchalant boy's behavior. "Riven, what is wrong with you?"
He turned around, giving Delgen the most deadly and icy look he had ever seen. "Everything," Riven growled, and walked off, leaving his friend in the cold air of night.
Riven stopped in a part of the field, where the dead lay, eyes respectfully closed. He spotted Yanine and Kasaic, noticing their peaceful expressions. No tears came from him.
Picked up a shovel, and started digging.
Counting up his losses, the general sat in his tent, mourning all of the losses silently. Such was the pain of command. He saw Riven walk in, startling him that the boy could move after the injuries he had sustained.
The boy approached, face grave, dirty with earth. His bandages were stained red, from wounds opened through exertion.
"Cerul. I am glad you are alive but you are bleeding," the general pointed out. The young soldier didn't even so much as blink.
"It is of no concern," Riven replied coldly. "I wish to make a request."
"Well then, go ahead, you certainly earned it today. Speak your mind."
"I request to be transferred to scouting. Away from the frontlines."
The general thought about it. Cerul was one of his best sword fighters. Yanine's unit had been very effective in battles. But now they were gone… It was a difficult decision, but the boy had nowhere else to go."Granted. You will be folded into scouting, with Nemos."
"No."
"What?"
"I said no."
"What do you mean?"
"Alone. I want to scout alone."
"If you get cap-"
"So what? There is no obligation to come for me. I will not die, if that is what you fear."
The general grimaced. "Is this a whim or are you serious about this? This is not something to joke around about."
Riven's glare didn't change.
"All right… You start after we get out of these bloody fucking plains."
The soldier nodded and turned around, before stopping near the exit. "General."
"Yes?"
"The prisoners," he said, tone sinister. "Do we need them?"
"No. Why? What are you going to do?"
"What we always do."
What we have to.
He opened the tent flap, when the general's voice came from within. "Cerul." He stopped, turning to look at him again. "There has always been a darkness within you. It is our strength, and yet, our greatest weakness. Do not lose yourself to it. I have seen it happen. It is not easy to slay one of your own, to protect them from themselves, I do not wish for it to happen to you too. Whether you do it or not, just know this. While there is no right or wrong- not in this world, I will see in the morning what path you chose."
Riven remained silent, leaving.
Dark, murderous thoughts entered his mind, painting images of blood. Steven felt trapped, engulfed in a cascade of shadows, hate and pain eating away at him. He knew what was coming next, what Riven was about to do, seeking catharsis, closure.
Riven, no! Don't do this! He pleaded futilely, as he looked down and saw a knife gripped firmly in his hand. Not shaking, or hesitant but resolute, unwavering. Crimson clouded his view, a cold fury backed by hate and anger. A red-haired soldier looked up at him, fear etched into his face, just a mere boy as well, a sad consequence of war. Steven continued begging for Riven to stop, for him to reconsider what he was about to do, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. This had already happened, he couldn't change the past.
And somehow, that was the worst part. Something had died within him, tearing a hole so deep and black-
Violence breeds violence. Only blood can be the answer to blood. There is no forgiveness. Not now. Not ever, a dark voice added, low and guttural. They did this. Give them what they deserve.
Don't make me watch. Please don't make me watch, Steven said, unable to close his eyes, unable to unsee. Don't-
Black steel gleamed. Hatred flared.
And Steven screamed himself awake.
Romance is uncertain. I'll make no promises. Maybe yes, probably no, since I've never really written a romance story before. Nor do I feel I would be particularly skilled at one either.
As for mega evolution? I'd say the same. It's an interesting concept, so there's a high possibility of exploration. Although, a particularly sharp eye can catch a few things here and there that allude to the fact...
Will Riven get his swords back? Not likely. The tentacruel vehemently oppose such a decision. They are very happy with their find and are unwilling to give their new found trinkets back. They can be fairly stubborn jellyfish.